


Alone Together

by metaphoricalmess



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Awkward First Times, Bottom Robb Stark, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Platonic Sex, Romantic Friendship, Roughhousing, Shameless Smut, Top Theon Greyjoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:27:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25652836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metaphoricalmess/pseuds/metaphoricalmess
Summary: Robb grew tired of lying to himself.
Relationships: Theon Greyjoy & Robb Stark, Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark
Comments: 3
Kudos: 70





	Alone Together

**Author's Note:**

> A smut generator gave me something along the lines of “roughhousing leads to More than roughhousing”, so I felt obligated to write this as a Throbb oneshot. 
> 
> \- Moon

His feet pounded the solid earth of the damp green forest. The late summer breeze sang through the trees and tousled his reddish curls as he ran. Sweat slid from his temples all the way across his jaw and dripped sweetly off his chin. There was a certain rush he’d experience while running. Sometimes it felt like he could run forever, to the edge of the Narrow Sea and back. 

There were other footsteps, too. They were slower than his, and lighter, eventually fading away into the groans and clicks of the forest. Robb kept on for a good while before the sharpness in his side begged him to stop, to rest. But he didn’t stop smoothly. His body still moved a few paces after he tried to, making him slip on his own foot. He was met with twigs poking his clothes and a rock cracking his jaw. 

“Damn.” He muttered and put the back of his hand to his lips. Nothing. “Thank the Gods.” 

Robb caught his breath and stood. Maybe he should have stopped earlier. He had quite the distance on Theon, and these trees looked darker in color than the ones nearest to Winterfell. There was an unfamiliar stream running nearby that reflected the shimmers of the twilight sun, speckling orange and purple. He should turn back before it got dark, that’s what his conscience told him, but another part of him suspected Theon might still be lingering. 

“Theon,” he called through the dense wood. “Looks like I beat you. Again. We need to get back.” 

Summer bugs hummed quietly. A few brown birds parted from their branches at his voice. 

Theon must have turned back. Robb sighed, trudging his way through some brush. He would chew Greyjoy out that night, for sure, he just needed to find the— 

“Stark!” 

Someone’s weight was thrown directly at him from the side. Robb fell, only seeing a mess of grey and black as his head hit the soft dirt. Instinctively he fought whoever had the brass balls to tackle him off his guard, and brought his knee up into the strangers stomach. He let out an ugly ‘fucking hell’, and that told him this was no stranger. 

“What in the seven hells, Theon!” 

“You may have beaten me at the race, but you won’t beat me at wrestling.” 

Greyjoy forced himself back on top of Robb. He easily grabbed hold of Theon’s shoulders and flipped him onto his back, trying to get some sort of hold on him. It felt natural to roughhouse like this, right in the middle of the wood, with the dirt and the worms and the wild beasts lurking around the corner. They tossed with each other for a bit, shoving faces into the ground and grabbed at whatever they could. Robb soon felt his arms tremble with soreness, and succumbed sourly to Theon pinning him down on his stomach. 

“You surrender?” 

“Yes.” Robb muttered. “Now, get off me.” 

“Say mercy.” Theon hissed. 

“No. Get off.” 

He twisted one of Robb’s arms behind his back. A sharp pain tugged at his shoulder, but he grit his teeth and dealt with it. 

“I’m not going to say it.”

“That’s too bad, I’m sure Lord Stark wouldn’t like it if his son’s arm were broken.” Greyjoy giggled at the power he seemingly had over Robb. He was a little angry, but for some peculiar reason, wasn’t raging at his blatant disrespect. They’d always been like this, after all. Formality wasn’t familiar. 

“Imagine what he’d do when I tell him you’re the one who broke it.” 

Theon hesitated, holding Robb’s arm for a second, then let go. That always did him in. 

Robb flipped himself so he lay on his back. The canopy faded into the darkened lilac sky. Robb thought he could make out small shapes in the trees, but it was too hazy to tell what they were. He panted, then turned to Theon, who still hovered above him like a dog waiting for a treat. 

“What?” Robb asked. “I’d never say mercy to you.” 

“I know that. It just…” Theon started, then stopped. He seemed to be searching for words, maybe even sifting through the right ones and the wrong ones in his head, but nothing came out of those lips. 

“Spit it out, we don’t have all night here.” 

“No.” Theon said passively. “It’s stupid.” 

“Sounds about right.” 

In an instant Theon was pressing both hands down on Robb’s chest and digging his knee into his thigh. 

“I just like seeing you like this. Underneath me, and tired, and sweaty.” 

Robb grunted at the pain in his leg, but his mind was elsewhere. Theon’s words seemed to flow together, all low and heavy and in some type of way. The sweat on his face dripped slowly like sap and splashed on Robb’s skin. There was red heat in his face, he could feel it burning like a thousand suns, and he didn’t know what to make of it till he saw the new tent in Theon’s pants. 

He pushed up violently, knocking Greyjoy into the dirt beside him. Robb’s instinct was to skitter, so he listened and lifted himself up, taking more than a few steps back. His blood was rushing wildly with confusion. 

Theon stayed where he was and tried to cover his hard-on with his hands. That hid it well enough, but there was no hiding the embarrassment making a home on his face. 

“I take it back, Robb. I wasn’t thinking of you, I wasn’t. It was Ros, she’s on my mind, I promise it wasn’t—” 

“Quiet.” Robb commanded. His temper began to cool. “I’m not mad.” 

“It’s wrong, I know, but I can’t help it.” Theon looked to Robb for permission to speak. Robb answered him with silence. “You’re always beatin’ everyone at everything, just makes me want to. You know.” 

Slow breaths. In, out. He let the wind calm him the rest of the way before kneeling down to reach for Theon’s hand. He helped him up, and tried not to make eye contact. He’d looked at Theon before in those ways, just a little, but he’d buried those so far in the past. Now, they were bursting to the surface and filling his head with thoughts he’d been taught to be wrong.

“How long have you felt like this?” Robb whispered. 

“Can’t say. Not very long, I think. Not our whole lives, for sure.” 

“If anyone found out… I don’t know what would happen. I’m assuming the worst.” 

Theon nodded. Robb felt guilty, especially considering the excitement happening underneath his own breeches. He’d never been with a man, he didn’t think he wanted to. But Theon was his best friend, his most loyal friend. If it were to be any man, it’d be him. 

“If I let you, it has to be here. Now. And it can’t be very long.” 

“... Robb—” 

“And you can’t tell _anyone_. Not a single soul. If you do, you lose my trust forever.” 

Theon was clearly baffled. He stared for a second as if it were a cheap trick. When Robb said nothing, Theon smirked. 

“Deal. But I’m not fucking you till you wash yourself.” He said, and pointed to the stream. 

Robb huffed, then started on his pants. 

————

The shame that washed over his body when he bent over the log was tantalizing. In some weird trick of the Gods he liked being exposed in this way, showing his bare thighs and ass to the only person in the world worthy of seeing them. Greyjoy probably wasn’t even worthy, but Robb didn’t think about that too hard. He looked back over his shoulder to see Theon’s hand stroking that cock. It was a good size, not bigger than Robb, but a good size nonetheless. The head of it was bright pink and glistening with Theon’s spit. 

“Gods, look at that ass. Nice and clean for me.” 

He pressed a wet finger against Robb’s puckered entrance. It felt hot, and sent shivers running straight up his spine. His walls enclosed around that finger as if it were trying to swallow it whole. Theon’s hands were slender, but even one finger made him feel light. This was all too new. Robb didn’t think it would feel good to have Theon’s finger slowly pumping inside of him, but it did. It felt too good to be happening. 

Saliva dripped and covered Robb’s hole before Theon inserted another slick finger. They worked in circular motions and dove deep into the flesh. Something sweet started to hit him in waves, and Robb found himself rolling his hips back onto the fingers to push them further into the heat. It felt as if there were tiny wisps of fire burning straight through his stomach. 

“You like the fingers.” Theon stated. “Just the fingers and you’re already acting like a whore?” 

“Watch it.” Robb snapped his eyes open.

“Or what?” 

Theon started to shove his two fingers at a quicker pace. Robb twitched. Something tightened in his legs, and something else deep in his ass began to ache. It was a hungry, lustful ache, one that screamed for more. A low and rumbling groan sounded from his lips. 

“That’s right. Keep moaning.” 

“Why don’t you quit this and get on with it if I’m such a whore?” Robb growled and rocked himself back onto Theon again. The fingertips brushed against something that made him shudder all over. 

He chuckled as he tried to get his third finger to fit. The quiet of the night settled in by now, so Robb could hear the squishing of his own ass very clearly. He rocked carefully and steadily, secretly thanking the Gods for not sending some wayward traveler their way. If word got to his Father that he was letting the ward fuck him like a woman, well, he wasn’t sure how that would turn to be. 

“It’d hurt, I bet. Stuff this big isn’t supposed to go up there normally.” 

Robb snarled and smacked his fist against the log. 

“I don’t care. We don’t have till daybreak for you to put your fingers in me.” 

“Fine, fine. Impatient bastard.” Theon muttered. 

“I’m not a bastard.” 

“You may as well be one now.” 

He slipped his fingers out. Robb felt empty till the head of Theon’s cock pressed gently against his hole. It was warm and lathered with thick saliva, thicker than milk. This felt right, like he was made just to be fucked by a Greyjoy. 

A couple years earlier and he would have smacked himself for only thinking such a thing. But Theon had grown since then. He was a man, in terms of his body of course, toned and in the prime of his life. Robb grew tired of lying to himself everytime he saw those muscles without the covering of a tunic. 

Theon was pushing into him. It felt like a blaze of heat erupted inside. Pain. A lot of it. Instead of relaxing he tightened himself, clenching his fists and unclenching them. He drew in sharp breaths as his length pressed onward, but it soon stopped. 

“Does it hurt too much?” 

“No.” Robb said.

“Liar.” Theon placed his hands gently on Robb’s hips, preparing to pull out. 

“Wait, Theon—please, I can take it. Just keep going, keep spitting. I want it.” 

His dick pulled out the rest of the way. Robb sighed with defeat till he felt Theon spread his cheeks. Something cool drizzled on his ass, and the situation became more clear when he felt a tongue rimming the edge of his entrance. 

“Theon.” Robb let out a shaky breath. He couldn’t finish whatever he was going to say. 

The slippery tongue poked its way inside. It could be described as curious. The way it swirled and jabbed at every sensitive little nerve chilled him. Robb felt Theon pushing spit up inside him to cool it down. Copious amounts filled him, and after almost a century of the intimate act, his ass was dripping with it. 

“Don’t lie to me this time,” Theon warned, “I'll know.” 

Still reveling in the masterful moves of his tongue, Robb was almost unprepared to feel his cock again. It pressed needily till it broke through. The pain was back, but this time enclosed with a thin layer of saliva. Robb tried not to lose it as Theon pressed his member deeper. He relaxed his body to allow a smoother passage. 

The first few thrusts were like glue. Theon’s nails raked into Robb’s hips as he tried to get a grip inside him. He moaned at how full he was getting, and moaned for the insatiable craving that still lingered. 

His dick struck… something. It almost made Robb launch himself from the log. He cried out embarrassingly. 

“Are you hurt?” Theon questioned with a trace of annoyance. 

“No. Gods no.” Robb bit his lip. ”Keep at it.” 

“Of course my lord.” Theon mocked, but he was finally getting used to the tightness it seemed. Robb could tell by the ease in which he thrusted his cock now. His walls were closing in on it, throbbing and aching around it, so Greyjoy started to buck his hips harder. “Does it feel good?” 

Robb didn’t answer. He moaned lowly with closed lids. 

“I asked you a question, my lord.” Theon drawled as he gave a hard thrust. It jolted Robb’s body forward a couple inches, hitting that sweet spot again. 

“Fuck.” He groaned. “It does, I swear it…” 

Theon’s cock pumped in and out of the heat. His thrusts were fluid, almost graceful, like he was painting a mural on the ceiling of some castle. The longer he fucked, the less pain it brought to Robb. But something else yearned for a hot touch, creating a certain kind of anticipation that forced his own dick to twitch and leak. 

Robb hated his moans. His face was flushed pink. He tried to keep them low, masculine, but they rose softly in pitch as Greyjoy slammed his hips back and forth. 

“I’d pay a lot of gold to watch myself right now.” Theon said as he panted. “Robb Stark, the dirty wolf slut, that’s what they should call you.” 

Robb gripped the log tightly as Theon picked up his pace. He wanted to stroke himself badly, but he’d fall off if he let go. His knees tried to invert themselves, but Theon had them spread wider so he could spear him. 

“Who’s fucking you?” Theon whispered. Robb took a couple moments to understand what he had asked. 

“You are.” He breathed between his moans. His mind was so hazy, so full, he could barely concentrate. Pain, pleasure, it all melted together. 

“And who am I?” 

“Theon Greyjoy.” 

Theon laughed. He was pounding against all the sweet nerves, running his hot hands along Robb’s sides. Robb tried to hold it in, just to last a little longer than that, but he couldn’t help himself.

“I can’t hear you.” 

“Theon!” Splinters of fire rippled across his body as he felt himself cumming. He was rasping, going limp. “Greyjoy, Theon Greyjoy!” 

The echo of his voice carried, but he didn’t care. His voice sputtered into moans as Theon continued, relentless despite the obvious limax. He wouldn’t stop or slow till he was finished having his way, and that turned Robb on all over again. 

His thrusts became erratic as his dick pulsated. Something warm spread and covered him in a comforting feeling. Robb wanted to turn over and see Theon’s face as he came, but he was forced to watch the dirt. He tried to imagine it in his head, but none of the images did it justice. 

He felt a hand stroke his hair. Theon doubled over and planted his face into Robb’s back. His breathing was rapid, and he laughed just a little bit. It was infectious; Robb did the same. 

“You… are so loud.” Theon said as he pulled out. 

“And you’re dirty.” As soon as he was off him, Robb pushed himself from the log, stumbling and almost losing his footing. Theon caught him by the waist and placed his chin on Robb’s shoulder. “What was all that for?” 

“They’re just words, my lord. Words I’ve dreamt about saying for a while.” 

“Stop calling me that.” 

They laughed together. Theon held Robb, and Robb let him for a bit. Soon they’d have to walk back, and mother would inquire, prod. Robb would make something up to save face, and they’d depart for the night, dreaming of being alone together.


End file.
